


Nothing Has to Stay Broken

by hopelessly_me



Series: How to Mend Our Broken Hearts [1]
Category: Marvel
Genre: Angry Clint, Bit Angsty I suppose, Clint wants to fix things, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Trying to work it out, Upset Clint, Upset Steve, ended relationship, heavily referenced Ameriwinterhawk, relationships are hard, talking it out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26834587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopelessly_me/pseuds/hopelessly_me
Summary: Clint's relationship came crashing down nine months ago when Steve dropped everything and left, not saying a word, Bucky leaving soon after. Clint decided it was time for some form of closure so he sought out the person it seemed to all start with.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Steve Rogers
Series: How to Mend Our Broken Hearts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1964884
Comments: 20
Kudos: 53
Collections: Reverse Prompt Challenge





	Nothing Has to Stay Broken

Clint looked at the cabin in the woods from a distance, his stomach in knots from the nerves. He didn’t know what would await him should he get the courage to walk up to the door and knock, to talk to the person inside. There was too much pain, too much uncertainty, but he knew that if he wanted everything that he had to find the courage to start somewhere. That somewhere led him to Indiana in December, watching and smoke billowing out from the chimney.

With tentative steps, a backpack haphazardly dangling from one shoulder, Clint pushed himself forward through the snow. He walked up to the front porch and shifted his bag. There was no turning back. He had to do this- he needed to put things right, somehow. So he reached up and knocked on the door and hoped like hell he would at least receive a warm welcome, whatever that meant anymore.

The door opened after a moment and Clint wasn’t sure if he wanted to cry or if his heart was going to stop on him. Steve looked confused, wearing a light brown turtleneck sweater and his hair a little longer than Clint was used to, a beard not as trimmed as he had once kept it.

“Clint?” Steve asked, sounding just as breathless as Clint was feeling.

“H-hey Steve,” Clint said, his voice weaker than he had meant it. He felt the tears burning in his eyes and he tried desperately to hold them back. This wasn’t how he wanted this to go.

“Clint. Hey,” Steve said, reaching out and pulling him into a hug. Nine months. He had missed this for nine long months. And yet the feeling hadn’t changed behind it- it was still a tight embrace, like Clint was worth holding onto. Clint let the held back sob out, losing his resolve all at once. “Come on, come inside. You are freezing. What the hell? Did you walk here?”

“Car got stuck in the snow,” Clint answered as Steve pulled him inside. The warmth bit at his cheeks and nose, burning more than the tears had. “I couldn’t just- I came this far and-”

“Hey, deep breath, even out,” Steve said, his tone soothing and gentle. Clint nodded and followed instructions. “Take your shoes off, put them next to mine.” Clint wanted to protest, wanted to keep them on in case this became too much. He must have hesitated too long before Steve’s face shifted to something much more sad. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

The words hurt more than they should have, but the way Steve’s face fell hurt more. So Clint ditched his backpack at the door, sat on the ground to untie his boots, taking them off and settling them next to Steve’s and he saw the hand that came down in a silent offering, which Clint accepted.

“Come on. Here. Sit by the fire. I’ve got a blanket,” Steve said. Clint followed behind, looking around the small cabin. It was warm but lacking anything that felt like Steve. The wood was rich in color, the marking distinct, but there wasn’t a book in sight, not a single picture set out. It made what should be a warm cabin feel cold and Clint felt himself shiver.

He sat down, back to the fire, and pulled the blanket up to his face. At least it smelled like Steve. At least that was one thing that hadn’t changed, something that could ground him. It was a few minutes before Steve reappeared, carrying two mugs. He sat down with a small groan and held one out to Clint.

“I don’t have coffee but I have hot chocolate,” Steve said.

“Warms the soul either way,” Clint said, taking it. “Thank you.”

It was quiet for a few minutes. Clint savored the hot chocolate. No one made it like Steve and Bucky. He didn’t know if it was some secret recipe, or if it was just the “old” way of making it, but it always tasted much smoother, much creamier than any coffee shop had ever made it. It was just another piece of his life he had missed out on and it threatened to push him to that edge again.

“How did you find me?” Steve finally asked.

“Not that hard, Grant Stevenson,” Clint answered, looking up from his mug at Steve. Steve looked almost uncomfortable, and it pained Clint. “I can go.”

“You came all the way here, you have to have had a reason,” Steve said slowly.

Clint nodded, swallowing back his emotions as much as he could. He sat the mug down, off to his side and settled his hands in his lap, keeping his eyes down. “I don’t know how to fix everything that happened but I want to.”

“Clint,” Steve said, just loud enough for Clint to pick up on it. He didn’t dare look up. “Clint, it wasn’t your fault. None of this was your-”

“You left me behind when you left him,” Clint said, the tears coming up again. He hated this- he was never one to openly talk about his feelings, about anything that hurt him. He wished he could have kept it wrapped up inside, just come out and act like the last few months hadn’t sucked, but he knew that wouldn’t have gotten him anywhere.

“It wasn’t like that,” Steve said.

“No?” Clint asked. This time he had to look up, watch as Steve’s face broke down. Clint pulled his shoulders up. “I don’t want to… I don’t want  _ this _ , Steve. I don’t want all this hurt, and pain, and all this bullshit. I just want-” 

He couldn’t bring himself to say it. Sitting there, Steve to his side, it sounded whiny, trivial maybe, but certainly needy. It sound stupid, as if just saying the words could fix anything. Relationships weren’t that easy. If they were, he would still have Bucky and Steve, instead of having neither of them.

Clint looked back at Steve, who seemed to be at a loss for words himself, his eyes on the ground. Clint couldn’t tell you what the fight was about between Steve and Bucky, he just knew that whatever it was, it was bad enough that Steve had left everything behind. Captain America, S.H.I.E.L.D., all his friends, his new family, Clint. Bucky was distant for a bit before he tried being there for Clint, and Clint worked hard to keep what he still had between his hands, but it wasn’t long before Bucky had slipped away from him too. Clint wanted to know what happened, how it happened, and he just needed some kind of closure.

“I still love you,” Clint said softly. Steve startled and looked up. “I don’t know what happened, and I tried to tell myself that that’s how things go sometimes. That sometimes we don’t get closure. But- I can’t. Not with this. Not with us. Any of us.”

“He didn’t tell you?” Steve asked.

“Bucky didn’t say a word,” Clint answered. “He wasn’t there when I got back, wouldn’t answer the phone for a few days. And when he did come back he was distant. He wouldn’t talk about you. And then he left.”

Steve watched Clint then reached over, using his thumb to wipe a few stray tears off Clint’s cheeks. Clint wanted to snatch up his hand, hold it against his face and soak in the warmth. Instead, Steve’s hand fell away.

“It was about everything,” Steve said. “Work, life, us, you. Bucky and I had a mission with Natasha while you were gone to Hungary. I almost killed them. I almost killed Natasha and Bucky.” This was news to Clint, and he frowned. Steve and Bucky surely would have said something, and if not- Natasha would have. The fact that no one said anything meant the gravity of the situation hadn’t been ideal. “I’ve always lived and held myself to a certain set of principles,” Steve said. “And for this I had to throw them out the window, and because of that I almost got Natasha and Bucky killed. All because I went along with the plan instead of trying to convince them there was another way. There was no other way but that wasn’t- it wasn’t right.”

“Mistakes happen,” Clint began to say but Steve cut off any other words with a hard set gaze.

“Do you know how extremely hard it is to kill Bucky and myself?” Steve asked. Clint knew the answer, to a certain degree. “Do you know just how much we had to push that line and hope that help came in time? Or that I got to sit there and watch them hurt Natasha? Hurt Bucky? Never enough to kill them, barely skirting by leaving them unconscious half the time, other times making sure they stayed awake to feel the pain.”

That sick feeling was back in Clint’s stomach. He was watching Steve break apart and he had a feeling this is what Bucky had to sit through when everything went down. “If you knew the things I had to do in order to try to keep everyone safe, everyone together-”

“You threw it all away because of that?” Clint asked.

“It was supposed to be you,” Steve said angrily. “You were supposed to be back from Hungary, you were supposed to be on that mission. How do you think I would have felt putting you in that situation? Almost losing both of you?” Steve got up and walked across the room. “You know how many times I’ve been in the hospital because you’ve been hurt?” he asked.

“Steve, people in our line of duty get hurt.” Clint rationalized.

Steve’s shoulders squared up. “That doesn’t mean I want to be the one to put you there.” Clint slowly made it to his feet, not moving away from the fire. “I told Bucky we should all step back, pull away. I wanted us to retire out. Find a house somewhere, I didn’t care where as long as it was away from there, and I wanted us to-”

“It doesn’t matter what you wanted because that’s not the reality of the situation,” Clint snapped. “You work with what you have, Steve! You work harder, think smarter so that you can keep what you have! You don’t throw it away because something goes wrong, because you think that’s the best way to protect the people you love.”

“It’s not that easy,” Steve shouted.

“And running away is?” Clint shouted back. “You gave up  _ everything _ because you thought you could lose it all. And you did!” Clint laughed at the absurdity of it. He rubbed his face. “In the end you lost everything you wanted to protect, and it was all a waste, Steve.”

“At least I’m not the one there to find you all in pieces,” Steve said coldly.

“Would it really hurt any less?” Clint asked. “If you found out tomorrow Bucky died, would you grieve any less because you weren’t there? Because last I recall, you grieved just as hard when you lost him from the train fall, when you thought he was dead and you couldn’t do a damn thing about it. This time you lost him and  _ he’s still here _ . You could still have him, be with him, and you can’t because you are scared. And fuck, Steve. If that’s what you want then fine. Live out here, be miserable in this fucking cabin,” Clint said, waving his hands around. “But that’s not what I want and I have a hard time believing that’s what you want.”

It was tense, the air thick, and then Steve sighed and looked down in defeat. Clint hadn’t noticed how fast his heart was beating, his hot his face had gotten. He took a few deep breaths, trying to even himself out while keeping an eye on Steve. Maybe he pushed it too far, pushed Steve too far. But the thought of that being the reason why he left, never giving Clint a choice, never letting Clint try to fix anything, find a solution? It had pushed him over the edge. Their whole relationship was built on mutual respect, boundaries, and choices. It was built on finding a way to make the three of them work. Having that choice ripped out from under his feet was more than hurtful.

“I don’t know how to fix what I broke,” Steve said, crossing his arms and looking up. “I don’t know how to figure out how to make it work, Clint. Any of it.”

It was the first time in nine months Clint felt a small bit of hope. There was something there, something that could maybe grow, be saved in some way, and there could be a sense of normalcy again. It was going to take a lot of hard work, but when was anything in Clint’s life ever that easy?

“I don’t have all the answers either, sweetheart,” Clint said, taking small, careful steps towards Steve. “But I’m a Midwestern guy, and we have this view on life. It’s that nothing has to stay broken as long as you have a little WD-40 and duct tape.”

Steve looked surprised for a moment before he sniffled, his nose giving a twitch. “You Midwesterners are a weird bunch.”

Clint finally reached Steve, stood right in front of him, then pulled him into a hug. He could have sobbed when he felt Steve’s arms lock around him in a tight embrace. Clint buried his face into his hair, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt Steve’s shoulders and chest rattle a little from a held back sob.

“We’ll find a way to make it work,” Clint promised. “The three of us.”

“But Bucky-”

“Let me take care of that,” Clint said, running a hand over the back of Steve’s head. “I think I might have a plan.”

“Probably a shitty one,” Steve commented with a laugh.

“They always are. Somehow those shitty plans landed me two super soldier boyfriends at one point,” Clint acknowledged. “I already used my first shitty plan to get you back. Ten bucks and a pizza says my next shitty plan can get Bucky back too.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Thank you for this amazing prompt.](https://reverseprompts.tumblr.com/post/630616099379200000/reverseprompts-reverse-prompt-challenge-9-i%22) I still cannot get over how pretty the moodboard is.


End file.
